To Have A Home
by SunlightSerenade
Summary: Set after the day of Mordred being Knighted. It's my first ever Merlin fic and consider this the first draft to see how it goes. If it goes well, I shall go over it once I'm finished and re-edit it to improve it. :)
1. Sir Mordred Knight of Camelot

**1  
****_Sir Mordred; Knight of Camelot_**

The day after he is knighted, Mordred sits along on the training ground – having stayed behind after his first ever sword practice with Arthur and the other Knights. Sitting on the bench, he runs his fingers along the blood-red fabric draped across his lap, admiring the Camelot cloak that was given to him the previous night by one of the servants before he was granted the Knighthood. Most would think him strange for admiring something as ordinary as a cloak but to Mordred, the cloak meant a great deal more than a piece of clothing used to set on top of his armour and cover his shoulders. To Mordred, the cloak symbolizes not just his achievement at having the honour to be granted a Knighthood, and even more so by Arthur, but is also a sign of acceptance and even more significantly, it gives Mordred a sense of belonging, as though he really belongs here, at Camelot. He could build a home here, he knows he can. Being a Knight is like having another family, and in Mordreds case, they are the only family he has. They're brothers, one and all and Mordred can't help but smile as that thought occurs to him.

Mordred had arisen early this morning, at sunrise, to explore the castle. He'd been inside Camelot twice as a child, of course, but now he was allowed to wander freely and with no worries that the Guards would catch him and lock him in the dungeons where he would wait to be killed. He didn't have to worry about keeping to the shadows, staying alert and listening out for any sound of approaching footsteps. Now, he could simply explore and that was what he had done. Mordred had walked the corridors of the castle for well over an hour, remembering certain parts of the castle from his childhood and committing the parts unfamiliar to him to memory for future reference. However, there was one part of the castle that Mordred didn't visit: Morgana's chambers. He'd went there of course, curious at first to see if he would be able to recall the warmth and security he had felt whilst there as a child. Perhaps, given that Morgana herself had changed, he would still be able to feel it there. However, upon his arrival, Mordred found that the doors had been boarded up and Mordred considered using magic for a moment to gain access to the room but instead, he moved away slowly, continuing down the corridor and leaving the room behind him.

The sinking sensation that Mordred had felt in the pit of his stomach when he had done that returned to him now and he frowned, looking out into the distance.

Morgana… How she had changed since Mordred had last seen her. True, she had not acted cold towards _him_ until she had lost her temper at the table. In fact, Mordred had been sure that upon seeing him, a kindle of the light and warmth she had once had sparked again. But overall, Morgana was no longer the same. She had allowed the bitterness she felt to consume her. However, although Mordred knew he had been right in stabbing Morgana and saving Arthur, it didn't stop him from feeling guilty. He could still see her face, her expression when she had looked up at him, as though it were imprinted on the inside of his minds eye.

Morgana was still out there somewhere. Mordred knew she was alive. He hadn't stabbed to kill her, simply to wound, in order to gain time to get Arthur to safety. He knew he would cross paths with Morgana again and when he did, he didn't expect to be greeted with a smile as he had done when he had been reunited with her considered that he had, quite literally, stabbed her in the back.

Mordred slowly pulled himself from his thoughts and back into reality, wrapping up his cloak and tucking it under his arm as he rose from his seat. It would do no good worrying about what the future would bring. What Mordred was focused on was enjoying the present, living in the moment of happiness and hoping that perhaps, one day, he could be fully accepted here, as a Druid, a user of magic, as well as a Knight.


	2. Celebrations

**2  
Celebrations**

Over the course of the following weeks, Mordred had grown accustomed to the castle and its workings as well as the people; bother those who live in the citadel and in the villages below. He is welcomed by all – except perhaps Merlin – and Mordred finds himself enjoying the company of those who he would normally avoid. He quickly learns that, just like a family, the Knight, those in Arthur's inner circle at least, all seem to have their own roles to play.

Arthur, of course, being King, is their leader: The one whom they all look to for orders. Sir Leon is one of Arthur's most able advisers, wise and loyal. Sir Percival is by far the strongest, yet although some would believe him to be fierce, judging him only by size, Percival is nothing but friendly. Sir Elyan is the Queens brother and he shares not only some of the Queens looks but the ability to be incredibly considerate and kind-natured whilst at the same time quite the fighter when practising out on the training grounds. But, despite having grown to like each of the Knights equally, Mordred can't help but feel slightly closer to Sir Gwaine. The older man's ability to be forever the jokester and the most care-free of all the Knights had drawn Mordred in. Also the fact that, whereas Mordred wasn't much of a talker, Gwaine had the ability to continue talking for a surprisingly long period of time without ever stopping for breath, therefore making Mordreds job easy as all he had to so was listen.

Mordred was… Well, he was the newcomer, the youngest, and with that came being treated slightly differently from the rest. The Knights enjoyed playing pranks on him, all though it was all good-natured and even Mordred laughed along. They also took more care with him during training and only Arthur seemed to push Mordred, stopping just whenever it became too much but pushing far enough to help Mordred gain more skill with his sword. Perhaps, Mordred often thought to himself, it was because Arthur, being the King, had also received the same treatment Mordred was getting, maybe even more, as most people were hardly likely to properly fight and injure there King.

Tonight, inside the citadel, preparations are being made and a feast is being held and it takes Mordred almost no time at all to figure out the reason behind it.

"It's the anniversary of the Kings coronation." One of the servants tells him and Mordred feels the excitement and anticipation begin to catch. He might never have been present at one to witness it for himself but he had heard stories about the unforgettable feasts at Camelot which always seems to make quite the impression on those visiting. So much so, that their legendary celebrations were one of the many things that Camelot was known for.

The feast itself is much more impressive than Mordred could ever have imagined and this is why, sitting at the round table between Elyan and another Knight whom he didn't know the name of, Mordred has to fight to stop the full blown grin from showing on his face. Instead, he looks around the table happily, watching the other Knights laugh loudly, shouting across at one another cheerfully whilst piling more food onto their plates and pouring more ale into their tankards. It is at this point that Mordred notices Arthur sitting some seats along, his expression solemn. Curiosity sparks in Mordreds chest as he notices the sad look in Arthur's eyes.

"He's always like this on the anniversary of his coronation." Elyans voice sounds in his ear and Mordred turns his gaze away from Arthur to look at the other Knight for a moment before returning to stare at the King.

"I thought it was a cause for celebration." Mordred almost shrugs, smiling slightly and Elyans laughs, a light chuckle.

"It is." The other Knight agreed lightly. "But it's also the anniversary of Uthers death." He added matter of factually. Mordred paused for a moment, his gaze turning away from Arthur to stare down at his plate. He hadn't thought of it like that but of course the day that Arthur had become King meant that Uther was no longer King and Mordred could remember the elder Pendragon well. He would not have stepped down from the thrown unless he had no longer been around to sit on it. However, unlike Arthur, Mordred didn't feel sorrow for the death of Uther Pendragon. He felt for Arthur, of course, that the celebrations which were held each year to celebrate his coronation were held under such a dark cloud as having lost his father.

Mordred watches as Arthur rises from his chair, leaving the table and exiting the room to where, it is unknown to Mordred, and he almost wishes that he could get up and follow him but, instead, he turns his attention back to the food on his plate. If anything, Arthur would want to spend some time alone, perhaps in silence and Mordred was in no position to deny him of his wishes.


End file.
